#Nora is trying to fatten him up

[dclovesdanny]

DcxDp prompts

Dan/Danny/Dani additions 1/5

Danny is adoption bait to the Gotham rogues.

Danny only went to Gotham university because it had a lot of ambient ectoplasm and he could fast track to the arrow space department in Wayne enterprises if he worked hard enough. He didn’t need adopting, he was already 19 years old and had a (strained, very distant) relationship with his parents. When he moved to Gotham, he expected to have to deal with people wanting to make him a new Wayne, not with all of the Gotham rogues immediately trying to adopt him.

So what if he defended Killer Croc from some asshole cops, accidentally exposing his fangs and had a conversation about being dehumanized with him that led to them having dinner on Wednesdays?

So what if he got into a serious conversation about the green gas effect and pollution (Sam had taught him well) with Poison Ivy that result in him coming over for dinner and Harley Quinn declaring him a ‘sweetheart’?

So what if he directed Frostbitw to help Mr. Freeze and now Nora invited him over for brunch on Sundays?

So what if he had a wonderful conversation with the Riddler in which they traded space themed riddles which lead to Riddler seeking him out sometimes for a game?

So what if he helped Mr. cobble pot by making him intangible when some people were driving by in about splash mud on him and he now had a part time job there as a bouncer?

So what if Grundy played tag with him every other Thursday and called him Little Death and offered to eat his chemical engineering teacher who gave him a low grade because he didn’t follow safety precautions?

This didn’t mean he was adoption bait. Shut up Sam.

[johnnyxwagner]

starter for @norasinclair​ location: the wagner house 

“How’s Noah been holding up?” He had heard the man suffered from a broken arm. Inviting Nora over for coffee wasn’t unusual for the man, considering he didn’t have to teach classes until later in the afternoon that day. “Can I get you anything else besides coffee?” He raised a brow as he set her coffee down on the table for her. “Stevie brought home some goods from the cafe,” in which he always told his soon to be wife that she was trying to fatten him up from all the baked goods she kept in the house. 

[webcricket]

Thursday’s Child

Pairing: CastielXReader Word Count: 2759 (Pt. 1) Summary: Part 1 of 5 - You met Castiel during his stint at being human and knew him as Steve, a sweet, albeit mysterious, man working at the local Gas-N-Sip with sad blue eyes that seemed to light up in your presence. That was eight years ago; now the daughter he fathered during your brief time together - the girl he doesn’t know about because he stole from your bed without a word and slipped out of your life before you knew you were pregnant - is asking for him. You realize, for her sake, it’s time to face the painful truth in order to find him. A/N - Part 1 is an angsty intro to the reader, the next part brings us up to speed on where Cas is at ...

Pt. 1

You walked into the Gas-N-Sip onto a scene a match stick strike short of complete chaos. Beyond the sea of customers waiting at the counter, the grumbled volume of their impatience rising like a storm’s tide breaking on a rocky shore, you saw not the blue-eyed sales associate you sought for, but the ragged figure of the manager, Nora, as she slammed her fist against the side of the cash register to compel its cooperation.

The machine spat its contents out in a metallic ding barely audible above the thunder of discontent. Nora flung a handful of crumpled bills at the gaping man stood before her and waved him toward the door with his uncapped cup of cold coffee without a word regarding well wishes for the goodness of the day.

The frazzled blonde jabbed a finger at her temple, peered blankly over the counter, and muttered, “Can I help whose next?” in a manner that made whomsoever was next dither in presenting themselves for customer service slaughter, and two people leave without getting the gasoline they came for - one of whom had trudged there on foot through the snow uphill in a pair of threadbare tangerine Converse after their car ran out of juice three miles down the road.

As the sea swelled in murmured confusion over who was next, you dove into the crush of shoulders and shoved a path through to the front.

Pressed into the counter, you jostled a carousel display of novelty keychains, the inconvenient disturbance of which, more than your voice, caught Nora’s strained attention. “Nora!” you panted. Caging the scattering of metal rings within your elbows to prevent their clattering to the floor, you ignored the nicotine-husked scolding of a wrinkled weather-worn woman sounding in your ear about cutting the line.

“Y/N?” A flicker of hope lightened Nora’s craggy sleep-deprived aspect at the sight of you. “Have you seen Steve?” Clutching at your wrist, she asked the desperate-toned question before you could, unknowingly answering yours in its sameness. “He hasn’t been in for two days. No call out. Nothing. That’s not like him.”

Cheeks paling, you agreed – conscientious to a fault, it wasn’t like him at all to just disappear.

The sickly sense of suspicion festering in your stomach during the last forty-eight hours that began upon waking to empty sheets and fattened itself not on food, because you’d barely eaten under the barrage of worried emotions, but rather fed on a gluttony of unreturned calls and texts, shuddered and flipped with enough weight to unsteady your feet; wrist yanked from her grip, you flattened your palm to the front of your jeans as an awareness of imminent ill shot sour bile up your gullet.

You shook your head; taking a second, you choked back the throat-searing fluid and fortified your dizzied balance against the confirmation he had indeed gone without a trace. “N-no, I haven’t-” you sputtered- “I-I was hoping-”

Cutting you off, unable to hear anything beyond the unhelpful news of your weakly uttered ‘No,’ frustration rutted her sweat-beaded forehead. “Well when you do see him, tell him he’s fired. He left me in the middle of a mess of inventory and I haven’t had anyone to open. For fuck’s sake, it’s the holidays! I’m in a real lurch here.” Wheezing to reach for the final bit of breath required to bellow out her contained fury, she gestured at the crowd and flashed the one or two nearest folks shocked by her expletive outburst a conciliatory service industry contrived smile.

“If-if you see him-” you attempted to request the returned favor through the burst levy of her rage as the woman spewing insults about your impudence wedged between you and the counter to demand immediate attention. Funneled in defeat to the center of the store, you broke for the bathroom before the wet brim of heartache flooded your lashes and a renewed heave of nausea hollowed your belly of its fill of woe.

<<<>>> 

“Mama?” The girl outfitted in pastel blue and magenta feather-bedecked fleece footie pajamas curled on the bed beside you stirred sleepily in the crook of your arm; the friction of her minute movements and dry forced heat air of winter combined sparked a static shock where the soft warmth of her bare fingers brushed your own calloused cooler ones.

“Yeah, honeybee?” Swiveling your concentration from the pages of the storybook held above the both of you, you closed the pages and sniffed your reply ticklishly into the freshly washed soap-smell of your daughter’s scalp – the scent of her a welcome haven from the heady aromas clinging to you of yeasted bread, warmed spice, and browned sugar that otherwise denoted a hectic day spent toiling in the bakery and sweet shop you operated below the small apartment.

She squirmed and giggled beneath your unrelenting Eskimo kisses until, fidgeting sideways to evade and escape, she squealed mid-laugh a query so completely unrelated to the book you’d been reading aloud minutes before it took you aback. “Where’s daddy?”

Her innocent and wholly natural curiosity stilled your showering of affection, seized at the center of your chest to steal your breath, and skipped your heart a few agonizing beats, but only a few; you’d grown emotionally numb over many years to the hurt of not knowing what happened with her father, of trying to reconcile your questions with a lack of answers in order to figure out what you did wrong, if anything, to warrant Steve’s disappearance from your life – and his own - without a goodbye, a warning, or so much as an inkling of a reason.

Although you tried and mostly succeeded in tidily boxing up the train wreck aftermath of emotion in your brain, he remained nonetheless an enigma forever in front of you because she was his; she wore his smile, albeit a bit easier and more often than he did; she saw the world through that same shade of inwardly illuminated blue, giving everyone she gazed upon the benefit of the doubt; she treated everything she touched, too, with a kindness, carefulness, and consideration so like him.

He endured even in his absence as an end without an end - the only proofs of the brief love-swept spell of him having been in your life a blunted memory stonewashed by time to dull the jagged edge of loss in believing he was the best thing to ever happen to you, and the life he sparked in your womb, a little girl who turned out to be what he wasn’t – the love of your life.

Yet despite the distance of years and the layers of a life well-lived laid on top of past pain, and like the first time you met him, every once in a while, when you least expected it, in moments when you were most relaxed, his recollection had a way of taking you by surprise such that you forgot how to breathe.

Her inquisitiveness, however, did not; she asked after him on occasion, especially now that she was in school and of an age to notice and wonder at the differences between her family and those of her classmates.

“Max has two daddies.”

Her observation, spoken in an airy awe punctuated by a yawn, penetrated your reverie into the past.

“That so?” Shifting up onto an elbow to better study the seriousness scrunching up her nose, you smoothed her disheveled hair into a chestnut halo of bouncy ringlets encircling her head on the polka dot patterned pillowcase; your fingertips fondly followed a wild whorl rebelling above her ear.

“Mm-hmm,” she drowsily drew out the noise, blinking heavily-lashed eyes that danced over the neon glow of star stickers arranged in constellations on the ceiling. With a mumbled, “and a dog, too” -she tossed the blanket, burrowed face-first into the pillow, and fell soundly asleep.

Staying absolutely motionless, you praised in grateful silence the sudden seizure of slumber children are wont to succumb to for temporarily relieving you from an explanation; whatever she dreamed of would be better than the reality of not knowing you had to offer.

You slipped from the bed and into the hallway, flicking lights off as you walked the worn oriental carpet runner to your bedroom, and found yourself standing in front of the closet digging for a shoebox stuffed in the topmost corner behind a stack of spare sheets.

Extricating the box with a grunt, you sunk to the floor, pushed off the lid, and dumped the contents, those few physical scraps you possessed of Steve - notes, snapshots, and the crumbling petals of a pressed red rose he left behind besides the scars on your heart and her - into your lap.

Last season, perched on Santa’s lap at the mall, your daughter told the falsely bearded jolly supplier of holiday spirit and maker of childhood magic she wanted him to bring her daddy home for Christmas. The pitying frowns donned by Saint Nick and his helper elf upon hearing her request haunted you for weeks afterward. The bright pink bike you bought to place under the tree as her big gift that year seemed a paltry substitute for what she really longed for.

It also prompted you to hire a private investigator to track Steve down. You hadn’t looked for him before then – you’d gotten on just fine without him; but it was becoming clear she needed to know him, if not as the father figure she idealized, at least as a means for both of you to get some kind of closure.

Part of you supposed regardless of why he left he should know he had a daughter and it was unfair - however unfairly he’d treated you - to keep her to yourself when you’d created her together. Whether he wanted to be a part of her life once he knew he’d not only deserted you, but left you knocked up, heartbroken, jobless, and in deep debt holding a newly minted mortgage for a building in need of major renovations before you could bake up that first batch of blueberry scones and realize a long-imagined dream – a dream he inspired you to pursue - would be entirely up to him.

Maybe you’d hesitated to look for so long because you felt he would want to be in your lives out of a sense of obligation rather than any emotive attachment of fatherly feeling; whatever had happened, the Steve you loved was a good man – dutiful of responsibilities to a fault. But Steve chose to leave and you wondered if he’d feel more trapped than anything if he knew there was a child; that he would be there like a hare snagged in a hunter’s snare awaiting fate, but that he wouldn’t want to be there.

In terms of fairness, that consequence wouldn’t be fair to any of you.

You eyed the sealed legal-sized manila envelope folded in half and jammed in the bottom of the emptied box. The part of you that preferred not knowing and defaulted to pigeonholing pain instead of dealing with it stuck it in there a month ago when the backlogged and grandfatherly private investigator working for literal beans of the brewed coffee variety and a weekly doughnut delivery as a personal favor to you got around to handing his findings over along with the kindly-intended counsel that he’d uncovered enough of the big picture to deem the case concluded, and it was up to you to decide whether it was worth hunting the guy down for a face-to-face to fill in the remainder of the damnable details.

Tucking the document into your outstretched hand – the fingers suffering from a nervy tremble no amount of suppressive will would quiet - he strongly cautioned against the latter pursuit of an in person meet up on the basis of having had decades of not so positive experience with quote unquote, “This same sort of dead beat dodging child support.”

Bolstering your resolve to learn the truth with a lungful of air, you slid a finger into the glue affixed gap of the envelope; the flap sliced your flesh as you tore into the paper. Soothing the slash against the warmth of your tongue, you slipped free the sheets within and rotated the cover page to scan the paragraph typed thereon – it comprised a summary of the steps the investigator took, contained a list of contacts in South Dakota and Kansas – potential current states of residence based on credit card activity - should you want to trail him further, and provided a social security number along with a name in bold uppercase print: JIMMY NOVAK.

A noose of nerves cinched tightly at your throat. The last thing you expected was an outright lie.

Steve … no, Jimmy, he carried a sadness in the slouch of his shoulders, a something secretive that distanced his gaze sometimes; he told you he lost everything - his family, his home - that he started over with nothing save the two feet he landed on to build a foundation. You believed him, respected his fortitude to move forward, and loved him enough not to push him to talk about a past obviously painful to him until he was ready.

You never dreamed what he meant to say was everything you knew of him, everything he shared, was a fabrication built not to move on from the truth, but to hide it from you.

The whoosh of your pulse pounded in your ears; vision tunneled, the panicked pump of racing blood blackened the periphery of the white sheet when you turned to the next page.

Written there was the fact Jimmy had another family; had a daughter – Claire. He left them, too. He hadn’t lost his family and home, he ran out on them just like he ran out on you.

“Mama?” Dainty fingers tapped at the damp shine of your cheek; she crept in so quietly you hadn’t heard the tip-toe tread of her bare feet on the carpet. “Mama?” she said it again, a broken whisper verging on a sob, and tangled her limbs around your neck.

You shoved the papers off your crossed legs and pulled the ball of her body into your embrace. “What’s wrong, baby bee?” Blinking to staunch the sting of your tears, your piqued emotion surrendered to a roused motherly alarm as you folded the mess of her sweat-matted hair to your bosom where she could hear the reassuring thump-thump housed within.

“I had a bad dream,” she murmured and fisted the fabric of your robe.

Me, too, you thought, and snuggled her in tighter.

Glancing at the discarded report amid the box’s other trinkets, your bleary gaze landed on a glossy polaroid photo of you and Steve snapped at a holiday party you goaded him into attending with you when your original plus one ditched you at the last minute so you wouldn’t have to face alone a roomful of tipsy marketing execs you loathed.

That night, that moment, his fingers flirting hesitatingly at your waist, touches giving in to the pull of gravity as the night wore on to graze then hug your hips as if they belonged there - had always been there - a confidant and comfort tenderly testing the territory of more - you naïvely yielding like pliant putty to his touch - that was the point of no return; through the retrospective filter of the truth it became clear he seemed too good to be true, because nothing about him was true.

Part of you wished you could reseal the envelope and the truth with it and return to the comparative bliss of not knowing. Mostly you seethed, an unprocessed anger relegated to the back-burner ignited, inflaming mind and muscle until your entire frame radiated a heat of rage.

The girl quaking in your grasp, bend of her spine shivering as you skimmed it in soothing caresses, reminded you some nightmares do evolve to have happy endings; no matter what happened, or what would happen, you had her and he couldn’t take that away from you.

Wiping her fear and tear flushed features into your pajamas, she gasped a desire that plunged daggers through your heart. “I want my daddy.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you spoke in a whisper to shush her whimpers and calm the heated tempest of your nerves.

She went limp wrapped in the safety of your words and arms; you’d do anything for her, including suffer pain and swallow your pride to dredge up a monster from the past. You only prayed he wouldn’t hurt her, too.

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[antman-56]

The Day We Meet Again Pt. 5

News Anchor 1 : Reports of small riots over Sunsets Family’s facilities have now turned to a ...

News Anchor 2 : Vacuo has now entered a state of emergency due to the increase violence of Faunus workers under Starr Industries...

News Reporter : Atlas is now called martial law once again due to the Faunus attacking SDC security and supervisors. As you can see below me their are fires and raging rioters. We were lucky-

Pilot : Ma’am were leaving!!!

NR 3 : Why?!

Pilot : Reports of the rioters gath-

The camera shakes violently with the screams of the news team and the helicopters warnings ringing.

The screen soon turned back to the main news team starring in shock and one of them crying.

They weren’t alone. Team RWBYJNR had the same reaction. Speechless and scarred. Kali was in tears. All the progress they have done since Adam’s suposive death. Gone.

Ghira right now was giving a statement, mostly to say he and the new White Fang had no part of this.

Kali : I can’t believe... 

Kali left the room in a hurry.

Blake : Adam has to be a part of the insurgency.

Weiss : How do you know?

Blake : He has to!! The White Fang stopped supporting him when he ran away at Haven. Their is no way-

Ren : It could have been a Faunus worker responsible. They might’ve saw or heard some of the things Adam did.

Blake : But he left. Abandoned his friends.

Jaune : What message would you send when you attack the people your supposed to liberate? 

Blake : He attacked me.

Ren : More than likely out of anger and the fact you organized that resistance.

Nora : Are you defending him?

Ren : No, I’m trying to rationalize what he was thinking when Blake showed up with Menagerie resistance.

Blake : Well he lost everything when he fled.

Ren : That didn’t mean everyone gave up on him, just the majority of Menagerie,.

Yang : And what dose that mean?

Ren : That the Faunus in slavery still see him as a hero.

Nora : But he was a murder and a coward.

Ren : Like Jaune said, what message would he send if he attacked the Faunus, reports say that his men fired at the humans and mostly ignored the Faunus resistance. The only people that were attacked were the ones who fought them, ie you and Sun.

Blake : But what of the ones that fired?

Ren (on scroll) : Reports state that they were employees of different facilities of different companies. Meaning-

Blake : They weren’t part of Menagerie.

Ren : Exactly. According to their statements Adam saved them from either mutilation, rape, torture, the list goes on. 

Blake : That’s not ...

Ren : Well that explains why they fired. They didn’t want to anyone to go through what they did, even if it meant killing humans.

Blake : That doesn’t change the fact that-

Ren : Blake your trying to make a slave and a free man have the same mind. Its not going to work. One knows the hardships in life and the other doesn’t. One lived in a room alone and the other shared a broom closet with 12 others with no restroom. One ate whenever they wanted the other was lucky if his superiors remembered him.

Blake was quiet. 

Ren : From what was seen, to written, to said will change. The workers probable see you and Menagerie as spoiled or lucky. That you don’t know what they have suffered, They see survival of ones self important. That it’s common for them then it is to the people of Menagerie. So, Adam running means nothing to them. It only meant he would come back. 

Blake : But we are fighting for the same thing.

Ren : The only difference is that they want it done faster than how your father can do it.

Blake : So, we know why they follow him now. So who's leading this group?

Weiss : I'll call Whitely. Ask for some intel and who knows we might get lucky.

With that Weiss left and Nora changed the channel to Ghira.

Ghira : Again we have no leads on who is responsible for these attacks. As you have heard they tried to take my life as well. (He gestures his torso so they can see the bandages) But we will help the local authorities find the culprits and the mastermind behind this.

The reportes all rushed for their questions.

Ghira : Yes, you in the back.

Reporter  : Do you think this has anything to do with the late Adam Taurus? 

Ghira : No comment.

He left the stage all the while the media was adding more to the question.

When Ghira made it back he saw that all eyes were on him.

Ghira :Blake i’m-

Blake : Dad this is your last chance. We need to know what the Faunus have suffered so we can get an idea on how to help the kingdoms.

Ghira (sighing) : You just don’t give up.

Blake : Dad i’m not a child. I want to help but before I go in blind I need to know what to look out for. How to handle a worse case scenario better than going in blind.

Ghira stayed silent.

Yang (enraged) : Dammit old man. What is it that  that your hiding?!?!

Yang stomped over to him. Ghira didn’t bend but he meet the girls red eyes with his own.

Ghira : All of you are so naive.

This caught them by surprise.

Ruby : I’m sorry sir, but no. We have seen our fair share of the world.

Ghira : And what is that? Grimm? Miss Rose, the Grimm are simple creatures. They see and kill any thing that looks human. They are far easier to handle than politics, or worse, humans.

Ghira covered his eyes and laughed silently.

Ghira : You don’t know what it is that I know. Blake, you are right but you are not ready yet.

Blake (enraged) : What do you mean i’m NOT ready!! I have fought the White Fang, Humans that see us as garbage, and-

Ghira : THATS ONLY THE TIP OF IT!!!

Blake backed down and everyone could see the more cat like eyes on Ghira.

The man is stressed out. With the attempted assassination on his life, the riots, the media trying to get him to confess to a crime he didn’t commit, and now a determined daughter asking about the horrors he has seen. 

He was at the end of his rope.

Ghira (recomposed) : You really want to know?

Blake just nodded.

Ghira : Follow me.

He began to walk into the masion and Blake and co. followed.

It had been close to 10 minutes and he was not stopping. They have now entered further down into the Mansion. Even Blake was surprised, she had never seen this part of it.

They had now entered an old room, in the middle of it laid an old desk, an old chair,  some books and a lamp on the desk and a book shelfs filled the wall all of them full.

Ghira took a seat and stared at his daughter, his pride and joy but also a pain. Still he loved her.

Ghira : Mr. Arc close the door.

THUNK

 Ghira : Now the truth.

Blake felt uneasy and she wasn’t alone. The room was old and the cold. And the fact that Ghira was a calm disheveled mess scared her to no end. Still she would not bend to the truth of her people.

Ghira : The Faunus have suffered more than you and the world know. Along with being put into force labor either by kidnapping or by poverty. we have suffered more.

Blake : I kno-

Ghira (raised his hand to silence her) : Along with that, we have been used as test subjects since we are more human than rats. Forced to endure unknown chemical compounds to see how they respond. all in the name of science And somtimes for fashion. Faunus are put on a table and are removed of their skin if it resembles leather or any other animal fabric. We have been hunted like fair game. Deer, Rabbit, Moose, and even Bird Faunus are kidnapped or bought from companies and are released into the wild to be hunted for sport. Faunus of endangered species are more preferred since their counterpart would get them arrested if caught. (the room grew colder as he forced himself to reveal more) And in some kingdoms they get away with it since “A savage attacked me. I had to defend myself”. (croaking) We are put into gladiator pits forced to kill one another for the pleasure of others. Some Faunus with more mutations like razor sharp teeth, claws, fangs, or thick skin are put to fight others of the same, more, or less mutations. Doesn’t matter about age, gender, relations, species, or conditions. As long as their masters are happy. Their are cults that require the blood of animals and humans and guess who fits right into that category. The scenes that were left behind, it was one of the few things I agreed with what Adam did. (he closed his eyes) The women in some of those examples are put into breeding facilities, legal or not, mostly not. Do you know what it fells like to be held down ladies ( RWBYN began to feel chill down their spine, some making a fist to hold in their rage others to mortified to do anything but hug themselves). begging for it to stop and then forced to give birth right were you defecate. I saw the photos and I didn’t want to imagine your mother in that situation. Did you know their was a plan for you and your mother at one point. ( Blake was now mortified, she was shaking and RW_YJNR stared at her). Sienna told me after Adam found the conspirators and the traitor. Out of the 5 we destroyed the youngest one recorded was 6. And we believe their are more and we are still searching. The Butchers Mine was one of a few example of us being used as cattle. Their are clubs that kidnap Faunus, fatten them up and feed them to the family. And get to do it again. If you wan to know more, the books here hold the records of each encounter that Adam and others found. Now if you’ll excuse me.

Ghira got up and left. Leaving a room filled with mortified young adults.

Nora was being consoled by Ren. You could hear quiet sniffles. Ren stayed strong for her, she needed him now.

Ruby was looking at the floor. Trying to understand how people could do that another being.

Weiss was beginning to hyperventilate. What else has her father done to their name and could it even be fixed.

Jaune walked up to Weiss and gave her a hug. She didn’t care at the moment if it was him, Ruby or anyone. She just needed someone to hold.

Yang walked up to Blake. You collapsed to her knees before she could reach her. 

Yang dropped next to her and hug her, hoping to bring her some comfort.

Yang : It’s okay. It’s okay. We can fix this.

Blake began to stare at the desk. Her people have suffered and they were right about her.

She was nothing more than a princess. She may fight for her people and her goal may be noble. But she would ignore the people who have suffered without a second thought.

Adam was right. He was right.

He was right.

[homesoutofhuman]

Part 8 - How am I supposed to live without you?

John enters your room and almost stumbles back from the fragrance. Your room is filled with lilies, white and some pink, overflowing from expensive crystal vases. Even Nora’s bed is surrounded by them since there are so many.

He comes to your bedside. “I don’t want to be a killjoy but this isn’t really acceptable. This is a hospital...there are rules...”

You bite your lip, anxious. “I’m so sorry...Santino didn’t tell me he was going to do this…”

John’s gaze softens when he looks at you. “Tell you what. Pick one vase to keep and we can distribute the rest among the ward patients. There are some people who never get flowers…”

You feel guilty again so just nod, keeping your eyes low and feeling ashamed at how John must see you, spoilt and shallow.

He finds a place to sit not taken over with flowers. “He must really love you….to go to all this trouble.”

You snort. “His assistant will have had the trouble I’m sure…”

John looks even more perplexed at your reaction and you feel the need to explain.

“I’m sorry...Dr Wick…” somehow you don’t dare call him John since he’s being so stern with you. “I sound ungrateful...but this is just how our marriage is. Outward displays of grandiose affection with little behind them.”

John looks concerned and you know you’re babbling, know he has better things to do, but then he leans in closer.

“Listen, we’re friends aren’t we? You can tell me anything…”

Oh...back to that..

You feel a shock of sadness, you know your marriage is over but you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Your feelings for John are strong and confusing, so new and delicate like a wild flower, so you just stare at him with sorrowful eyes.

John chucks you under the chin. “We’re going on an adventure.”

You sit up, looking at him questioningly. “Great. But where?”

John moves to the side of your bed and you place your arms on his shoulders, using him to lift yourself up. He wraps an arm around your waist and holds you steady, you never realised how strong he was.

John guides you gently, you sigh against his neck and he feels himself growing warm just from having you in his arms. He tries to concentrate on getting you out of the ward without accident.

“Are you kidnapping me John?” you ask, thinking of Santino’s face if he happened to come and find you gone.

John laughs. “If I were we’d be getting out of this hospital as fast as possible…”

You catch his mood, giggling as well, your stress about the flowers and Santino not coming to visit forgotten. “Where would we go, John?”

He pretends to ponder the question seriously. “How about...Napa Valley? Great wine...sunshine...we could hire an open top car...play good music and sing along...I’d love to hear you sing again.”

You sigh, almost going weak in his arms at the image he conjures up. “Sounds amazing...a great road trip with friends…”

John frowns a bit, nodding, but his eyes stray to your lips remembering how it felt to kiss you. “I’ve got to make you better first…”

“I feel okay…” you let him go and show him how you can stand on your own. John gives you a sceptical look, staying close ready to catch you at any moment and you poke your tongue out at him.

“Leave me be Doctor! Stop fussing!” you playfully push at him and he grabs you, tickling you into submission until you’re giggling, laid back in his arms, still trying to push him away weakly.

He stares down at you, your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, your chest rising and falling with rapid shaky breathes. You catch his eye and stop smiling, bringing a hand to caress his handsome face.

“John…” you try to convey all your longing and regret in one gaze, and he nods almost in answer, nuzzling his nose against yours but leaving your mouth alone.

There is a loud cough and you grab John’s arm, worried he will drop you. Of course he doesn’t, tightening his hold, sliding a hand on your back and lifting you upright again.

Nora is regarding you both with a sceptical look. “I know you came to visit me but I’m not feeling the centre of attention at the moment…”

You push John away, missing his offended look and rush to her. “Nora! How are you?”

She waves away your concerns. “Never mind that...tell me the gossip back on the ward...has that guy with the Harry Styles hair gone home yet?”

You nod and she scoffs. “Too bad.”

John leaves you to catch up and when he returns 20 minutes later he finds Nora napping in bed. You’re sitting in the chair beside the bed stroking her hand and looking sad. He sighs and moves to lead you away. Nora shifts in her sleep but doesn’t wake, John pulls you towards the canteen, watching you with concern.

“Maybe the visit wasn’t such a good idea…”

“No...she liked it I think, she just got tired quickly from the excitement.”

You look worn and pale and John curses himself. “I meant for you...it was meant to make you feel better but you look worse..”

“Oh thanks.“ you say sarcastically, sliding into a booth in the corner of the hospital canteen. “Can you get me a coffee...please?” you put on your best wide eyed Disney stare and John rolls his eyes.

“I was going to anyway...no need to break out the lashes…” he mutters under his breath, moving to buy two cups of fresh coffee and a muffin. He remembers when he was last in here, with your husband, and the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He comes back to you, urging you to eat. You sip your coffee and pick at the muffin halfheartedly. “Nora wouldn’t tell me John, but she’s really sick isn’t she?”

He sighs. “You know I can’t discuss another patient’s medical issues with you.”

“Oh.” you look down, frowning and waiting for him to scold you more. Instead you feel a hand on top of yours, rubbing your knuckles.

“I’m sorry Y/N...it’s the way it is…”

You look back up. “I know...please don’t be mad at me…”

“I’m not mad. What are you talking about?” John snorts a bit in disbelief, the thought he could ever be angry at you seems preposterous, then something clicks in his mind.

“Does Santino get angry at you?”

You shrug. “Sometimes…” John’s eyes go murderous and you rush to reassure him. “He never hurt me John…”

John makes a low growl in his throat. “If he did I think I’d kill him.”

“You’re a doctor...you swore an oath not to hurt people.” you remind him gently, but feel your heart swell at his words. “But...thank you...I appreciate it.”

John glares at an invisible Santino, finishing his coffee. “He neglects you though...I’ve seen it.”

“As you said...it’s not fair to discuss him with you John...can we talk about something else?” you plead again and he relents.

“Sure. Eat your muffin.”

You roll your eyes but shove a large piece on your mouth. “You’re trying to fatten me up..”

John smirks. “Anything to stop you leaving…”

You gasp, almost choking on the muffin and immediately his face falls. 

“Sorry...I….I know you have to leave it’s just...I’m going to miss you…”

You feel like crying, speaking in a small voice. “Me too….”

John can see his world crumbling before him and he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t want to scare you off with the intensity of his feelings, but he cannot let the chance pass him by.

“I think we should talk...not here…” he glances around the canteen full of his colleagues and knows what he wants to say would lose his job instantly if overheard.

“Outside?”

He leads you to the hospital garden and you spy the flowers he picked for you, they mean more to you than the hundreds of dollars worth of fancy blooms sent by your husband you feel a depression settle on your heart.

You sit on the bench side by side and rest your head on his shoulder. John strokes your hair, savouring the moment. You relax into him, sliding you arms around his waist and cuddling him like a teddy bear, a very attractive teddy bear but still. He smells like rain and he feels like hope.

He turns to you, running his eyes over your face. “I never thought I’d be the kind of man to suggest this, but I also never knew I could want something so much as I want you so...” he holds up a hand to stop you interrupting.

“...so I’m asking you...be with me...give me a chance...and we will keep it a secret. It’s not fair of me to ask you to choose, we hardly know each other..but I cannot live without you anymore...”

“I....” you feel overwhelmed by his sudden declaration, your instinct is to run away and John senses it, holding you tight against him. 

“I don’t know John...” you whimper, tears coming to your eyes as the conflict rages in your heart.

He gives you a longing look, his eyes full of emotion and desire, and before you can even say another world he grabs your face in his large hands and kisses you passionately.

His tongue is in your mouth, erasing all protests, any rational argument, and you let yourself drown in him, his warmth, his want. He kisses you as if it may be the last time, and the intensity makes your head spin. Santino always kissed you lazily, as if assuming the next kiss would always be there whenever he chose to want it. John’s sweet desperation is turning you on like nothing else and you kiss him back then, letting go. 

When John feels you respond he groans into your mouth, grasping you eagerly and you feel a rush of power that comes with affecting such a gorgeous man. His eyes rake over your body and see him lick his lips.

“I feel....dizzy...” you whimper and he presses his fingers against your neck to take your pulse.

“You’re fine baby....” he whispers, brushing your lips again and you realise...this is what true desire feels like.

-------------

Heal the pain masterlist

[lightsandlostbells]

Skam España episode 2 reaction

After the first three episodes, Skam España has slid more into of the original storyline, although there are still some places where it keeps diverging. But you can always count on a squad power walk.

Episode 2

Clip 1 - Pizza solves problems

Eva is just chilling, eating snacks, thinking about her lying, two-timing, conniving boyfriend. Well, potentially lying and two-timing and conniving. She composes a text, saying that she thought she saw him on the bus with Inés, then backtracks and deletes the Inés part.

Jorge ignores her question and is like, hey, you alone? He rings the doorbell within a minute of her text, so either he was already in the neighborhood or he got to her place faster than Even in Skam season 3, episode 7.

And he brought a pizza! He got there so fast that I don’t think it could be a deflecting-suspicion pizza, but I guess it could hypothetically be a guilt-pizza. Most likely it’s just a pizza-pizza.

He has the decency to ask her about the meeting with the girls, which is nice, but he comes across as being maybe a little overly friendly? Like I could definitely see where he was on his best boyfriend behavior so Eva doesn’t ask more questions about him on the bus. But Eva does ask him, and he says he was just coming back from Lucas’ house on the bus. He says he was alone and Eva doesn’t push him to admit otherwise. I mean ... we know Jorge is up to something, but hypothetically he could have just happened to get on the same bus as Inés and engaged in awkward small talk. It could have been an Isak-and-Even-in-S3.2 situation, with less flirtation.

Jorge is like, whenever I’m in you’re neighborhood, I head over to you. I see you and I have to get close. Yeah, that would explain why you cheated on Inés, I guess!

I feel like Jorge is really nice and friendly but makes a lot of promises he can’t keep and uses his charm to get away with it.

They seem to be having a good time, except Eva looks down to see his phone, just sitting there on the counter, being all tempting. Her hand creeps toward it just a fraction at the very end.

Clip 2 - Reese’s are the best

Viri is trying to encourage the girls to sell stuff like T-shirts and hats to fund their trip. All due respect, Viri, but I would want to see those designs of those before you start manufacturing.

She also turns down an offer of a snack saying that it’s fattening. Eva is fine with getting fat. Nora says they didn’t have these snacks in Wisconsin. Cris is like, I thought you had everything in Wisconsin? Nora’s like, we had peanut butter and pancakes and Reese’s. Everyone is in agreement over Reese’s being delicious, which they are. Although I would have loved if Nora was like, “We had bratwurst and cheese curds.”

Fun fact: every Memorial Day weekend, Madison, Wisconsin hosts Brat Fest, the world’s largest festival of bratwurst. I feel like Nora needs to tell all of her friends about this in a detailed scene.

Anyway, Viri is not interested in this Wisconsin food talk and you can see her trying to interject before finally bursting out and asking the girls what they think of her plan to sell stuff. They’re all like, eh. Probably thinking about Reese’s.

Eva sees Jorge and trots off to kiss him. We move away from her POV for a moment, getting the girls’ opinions on Jorge. Cris would fuck him. Thanks for letting us know, Cris.

Clip 3 - Enter P-Cris

Yeah, I don’t know how much profit you’re going to make selling pens, Viri, unless they’re really fancy fountain pens or you’re selling them in a big pack.

Viri “forgot” to invite Amira to the group, not good, Viri. Amira is like, your pens plan is dumb and Viri is like well OBVIOUSLY we had this binding agreement yesterday to go ahead.

Lmao, Penetrator Chris is introduced because the girls are calling for girl Cris across the room and he just happens to be there? It’s not as funny as Eva hunting him down and bringing him to the girls’ bathroom, but I mean, the man saw an opportunity and took advantage of it.

P-Cris is pretty cute in a boy band sort of way. He doesn’t even introduce himself to the other girls gaping at him, he’s all about Eva.

The girls detected sizzling chemistry between them, leap on that opportunity and tell Eva to get him to invite the group to his party this weekend right then and there. (Viri’s delivery is really funny here, lmao.)

Viri is like ALEJANDRO WILL BE THERE and Nora is like, who’s that? Because she has the audacity to not know The Cutest Boy in School. They show her pictures of Alejandro. Is Alejandro like a legit model or something? One of those pictures is a straight-up Blue Steel from a photoshoot.

Girl Cris is the one to like all of his IG pics for Eva, not Amira. And she’s the one who seems more actively egging on Eva to flirt. Amira wants to go to the party but she’s not the instigator.

Viri gives Amira a high-five so I mean, progress? A smidge?

Clip 4 - Stalker!

Jorge and Lucas are talking about buying DJ equipment. Jorge mentions that he doesn’t have the money for good equipment, but he doesn’t want to buy secondhand or cheap equipment in case it breaks. It’s mentioned that he might need a job to pay for the equipment. So perhaps this is motivation for whatever shady shit Jorge will be doing? Or it’s connected to it in a way. He needs money.

Anyway, Eva isn’t super involved in this conversation, so she’s pretty pleased when boy Cris texts her and calls her a stalker. When she is asked for her input, she goes with “Lucas is right,” whether she was actually paying attention or just that she knows that “Lucas is right” is usually true and will therefore make it seem like she’s paying attention.

The way Lucas looks at Jorge is always so warm and fond.

Cris invites Eva to the party and she’s like “What party?” as if this is Brand New Information. Cris flirts with Eva, saying he’ll throw party for her. She is clearly pleased by this attention, as opposed to her boyfriend being wrapped up in a conversation with his friend.

Lucas and Jorge are seriously going on about this. What if they end up DJing at one of these Penetrator parties? Lucas says he wants to learn how to DJ and Jorge says he’ll teach him, which I’m sure will be a thrilling experience for Lucas. Cue Lucas playing 20 pining love songs in a row.

Eva is on the fence about going to Cris’ party when Jorge is just like “Lucas, you want to do something this weekend?” Eva is startled by this. The camera zooms in on her face, similar to that scene in the last episode, so I think it’s definitely an artistic choice. I thought it was decently executed here so as to communicate her surprise.

Lucas is like, sure, we could get a beer. Don’t pretend his heart didn’t flutter when Jorge asked.

He also says they can’t drink at his house, because of bad vibes, “the usual,” which is certainly his mom’s condition and maybe his parents fighting. Jorge knows about this situation well enough to know that it’s typical at Lucas’ home.

Jorge also asks Eva if she wants to do something, too. And she’s honest with him, mostly! There’s a party at Cris’, she and the girls were invited (well, that’s a fib, she was the only ones specifically invited, but technically Cris did say she could bring whoever like five seconds ago …) She just leaves out that, you know, she flirted with Cris to get her and her squad into this party. I mean, this does drive home how shady Eva herself was being. Jorge and all the Jonases are keeping secrets, but here’s Eva having some of her own, even when she’s being fairly honest. 

Jorge and Lucas think Cris and his pals suck. Lucas says those guys don’t think about anything but hooking up with girls and Jorge is all, “That’s like all of us,” and Lucas is like AHAHAHA what a totally relatable comment! His laugh is so awkward, lol. Like AHAHAHAA kill me.

But the boys realize that a party is a party and agree to go. I mean, time to check out Cris’ big-ass house.

The way this is shot makes Jorge and Lucas all bunched together and facing together, while Eva is separated from them by a backpack with more space between them.

However, they still seem really close! In the original, in this scene Eva was listening to the boys make fun of her and her friends and the russ concept, while she was texting Chris. This is so much more benign! Sure, the boys are wrapped up in their own conversation, but they do ask for her input, and they invite her to their plans, and this whole conversation is so much more light-hearted. Jorge even seems to be a little satisfied when Eva mentions the other girls were invited, like maybe he’s proud of her for having friends. It’s quite sweet to see, but it also downplays Eva’s irritation with her boyfriend and how the boys could make her feel like shit. So they’re going to have to really sell me on the inevitable fractures in the group.

Clip 5 - Party time at Cris’ big-ass house

Eva is waiting at the metro and texting Jorge. He says they’ll show up to the party at 21:00 because being the first to arrive is lame. He also has low battery - convenient!

The other girls show up, then Viri. Viri is really dressed up like a Barbie, the girls are happy, it’s cute! Then Viri has to make it awkward by mentioning Amira’s “Bible” prevents her from drinking. Amira corrects her patiently.

Nora makes it a little less awkward by saying she also doesn’t drink, though Eva and Cris laugh their asses off at her explanation because it’s such a mom thing to say.

Also Viri brought some alcohol from home, which doesn’t really mean anything in itself since it’s so common, except in connection with Vilde’s home life with her mom, it makes you wonder if it’s deliberate. Like Viri wants to get some of the booze out of the house, or there’s so much of it her mom won’t miss it. 

The girls are very cute and excited as they walk to the party. It’s a fun sequence! The power walk/party entrance has a lot of stylized editing that’s different from what we usually see in a Skam remake, like zooms on each of the girls as they step through the door, but I adored that series of choppy zooms on Cris as he’s checking out Eva. It’s so ridiculous, but so fitting for Skam’s resident unabashed fuckboy.

It is kind of funny to me that they made sure to mention Cris’ big house, but the party seems to be confined to a rave in the basement.

Viri is beside herself when she sees Alejandro, like she’s reminded of his hotness all over again. This girl legit malfunctions around him.

Viri sees Lara, mysterious Lara who just transferred from Red Herring Academy! Eva seems way too happy when Viri runs over to her, like isn’t she worried about what happened with Lara, that Inés told her Eva’s sordid past?

So Eva doesn’t forget the dinner with Jorge and her mom, as in the original, but Jorge is supposed to come to the party and he’s running late and probably going to bail completely. Basically, Eva’s not the one at fault here.

Clip 6 - More of the party

Yeah, I really don’t see the point in breaking up the clips like this. Plenty of scenes and events in the original were spread over a longer period of time, but within one clip.

Is Alejandro checking out Nora already or is Cris looking at Eva in that one shot? Or both?

Lol, I love Nora getting a call from her cousin in Madison. There’s like a seven-hour time difference. Please please keep dropping Wisconsin references.

As soon as Nora’s gone, boy Cris makes a move. He plops down and makes it clear he was waiting for a chance to talk to Eva alone. He does this smooth move where he “can’t hear her” so he puts his arm around her to get closer. She tells him she has a boyfriend and he’s like, pfffft, truly not a setback!

Cris leaves, Eva checks her phone. Jorge said he’d be there but he is emphatically not. Jorge, we were rooting for you!

Inés shows up, just in time to see that Eva is all alone like a friendless loser, of course. She starts talking to Alejandro, who turns his attention away from Viri to Inés. Viri gets crestfallen and shuffles away.

Clip 7 - Viri fulfills her dream

Eva is still waiting for Jorge’s ass to show up. Sigh.

The music from the trailer plays as Viri is back to talking to Alejandro, although he seems more closed off (arms crossed). The other girls are watching and creating their own soap opera version of Viri and Alejandro’s conversation. Cris accurately nails Viri’s thirst; Amira perfectly embodies Alejandro’s indifference.

Her boyfriend nowhere to be found, Eva gets to dance with the girls, at least, and all is well until she gets too into her movies and knocks into Inés. Inés is ready for a fight, but the other girls defend Eva. Eva, however, backs down and says she needs to be more careful, and Inés agrees with her. Somehow I think they’re talking about being careful with something other than overly vigorous dancing, like, IDK, boyfriends.

Inés walks off and the other girls wonder what her deal is. Cris is ready to thrown down but Eva sharply wants them to drop it.

Eva wants to leave even though Inés is also headed out. Mood, killed, certainly not helping that her purse appears to have been drenched in whiskey. However, girl Cris herds the girls away for some good news, which is that Viri is making out with Alejandro in a closet/cupboard/pantry thing. The girls cheer and applaud, Cris yells at them to get a room, but Alejandro and Viri don’t really notice, lol. Now that’s some dedication to making out.

So we didn’t get Amira defending Viri against Inés in this version! Instead, we have the girls defending Eva against Inés, of course not knowing the full story of their friendship breakup. In particular, Cris was ready to bust a skull. But that was a big moment in the Sana-Vilde relationship, so you have to wonder if we’ll get a similar moment later where Viri realizes that Amira is fully ride or die. 

I wonder if Inés left because that girl told her Alejandro was taken, since it seemed like perhaps Inés wanted to get with him? Or if it had something to do with Jorge?

General Comments/Social Media:

This episode was way more in line with the original episode 4, which is where we are after condensing three episodes into the first. We had the party with the power walk, Eva and Cris’ flirtation, etc. though there were still variations in tone and some other plot points that were different.

On social media, Lara leaves the trip group chat without comment, so I think it’s safe to say Inés got to her. The two of them are shown in pics together. Viri was partying with Lara on IG on Saturday, so whatever happened can’t be THAT bad. I guess Lara doesn’t like Eva but Viri’s fine in her eyes.

Apparently the text messages between Eva and Cris have some loaded vibes where Cris uses language associated with sexual harassment and assault. Not against Eva, but like “I’ll let you sexually harass me.” Like he comes across as a dude who’s just ignorant about the topic and privileged. Cris was fucking JAZZED about Eva coming to the party, too, like he had no chill. I mean, Eva is a beautiful girl with excellent bangs, so I understand.

Cris posted this video on IG of soap being sliced and like, sometimes I don’t get the weird shit people post but I felt instantly at peace watching that soap being diced.

There’s a text about Eva binging a TV show and betraying Jorge by watching it all, and it has 11 episodes, so that could very well be a reference to OG Skam S1. LEARN FROM EVA’S MISTAKES, EVA.

There were quite a few pictures and IG stories from the party, which was good of the social media team to recreate the feel of a real party.

I’m not Spanish so feel free to correct me on anything!

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 2

Table of Contents Go to previous. Go to next.

Updated 2019.01.29. (Minor name tweaking.)

Once he’d sufficiently tailored the slacks and dress shirt, Carey spent the rest of the afternoon and evening assessing potential salvage among the wreckage of the small suburb. He and Jacob maintained terminal entries on all their clients, and on behalf of Jacob that included casing information regarding the locations of those individuals’ safes. The three besides their own yielded a reliquary of heirlooms crafted from precious metals as well as cash, and he amassed it all though he fostered no belief money would retain value as more than a scrap of cloth to survivors of the nuclear exchange. It takes a government to cast the shadow of a gold or silver standard, and the chemist doubted in dire earnest there existed any such establishment now.

He combed the handful of houses still half-standing, inspected mailboxes both those still upright and those knocked clear into others’ yards, rooted through garages and the shells of once vehicles; but, he gained scant notable additions compared to those retrieved from his prior home. Either time had erased the quality of most things, or those evacuating to Vault 111 had taken the best things with them only to have them discarded by the shills running it. Further insects argued with the chemist’s presence in their homes, but Angel made quick work of the enormous mutant flies and roaches.

Angel’s back panel espoused rather spacious storage. Unbeknownst to the Handy, its owner had hollowed out a small false bottom to this compartment, where he’d kept things such as his Melancholia during his active duty–but now, he fattened it with cash and valuables as he encountered them, and stored the chems in the main space. The compartment soon filled with a collection of tools, and household and backyard chemicals he could recall would prove useful to him once he found someplace stable and secure enough. The Vault Suit itself got crammed furthest in, out of sight and out of mind.

Unnervingly, he knew he couldn’t stay put for long, for he found almost no shelf-stable food: only a small cache of Salisbury steaks and canned water in Heydar Jahani’s small cellar shelter. It seared Carey that Vault-Tec had not extended invitation into Vault 111 to Jahani, despite his veteran status, while they’d invited both himself and the Murphys. Albeit crystal hindsight, he wished he didn’t understand the grounds upon which the vault might have rejected the one vet while fondly welcoming the other three. Military duty at the Deenwood Compound had broken Carey and Jahani in very different ways. As he helped himself to Jahani’s dirt-dark two hundred year old stout stash, he recalled that Nora Murphy had been in the army’s Judge Advocate General’s Corps, and wondered if she could have ever resolved a workman’s compensation claim for the poor soul, given the chance.

Carey doubted it.

Besides a pair of X-Cell inhalers from the Russells’ floor safe, only the contents of the first aid kits and medicine cabinets held any value. His stomach hardened to see Jacob’s hunch checked out: along with the performance enhancer had lain a ledger of dog fighting bets. Russell had been doping dogs with it. Carey supposed the political climate leading up to the nuclear exchange had warped just about everyone’s rationality and sensibilities.

The chemist most loathed his inability to locate any Mentats whatsoever in Sanctuary. The longer Carey existed again, the more he understood his constitution was fundamentally wrong. He struggled through murky, resistant acuity, noting a patchy memory and also difficulty pairing information. He at once felt both too loose and too stiff in most joints. He couldn’t see as well as he remembered he could. The disposition of his flesh rendered itself papery and pliant, while equally infirm. Everything took two or three times the extra effort to accomplish, down to putting one foot before the other... The cryogenesis must have surely wrought him rheumatic, and the opioids in his Melancholia cocktail had only masked the pain, not improved his function, and he opted to save the narcotics rather than plow through them since they didn’t much seem to help anyway. Between the limited food supplies and increasingly likely chronic pain, he resolved to push on to Concord proper. In the morning.

Returning to the vault overnight didn’t even dawn on him. Vulnerable everywhere else, he ate dinner in Jahani’s cellar and slept there.

When he emerged the following day, Carey located Angel and loaded the cellar’s supplies into it, then the two made a quick round to guarantee they hadn’t left anything especially important. He snacked on a can of pork n’ beans as he walked Southeast to the footbridge out of town.

“Just a bit overcast. Fine weather to walk to work, isn’t it, Sir?”

“You could say that.”

Once he’d polished off the fermented mess of proteins, he tossed the can and pocketed the spoon. He stepped around the fresh corpses of a man and a mangy dog in the road. There were bite marks. With a hard swallow, he pulled out his gun and looked around more intently than before as he continued down the broken asphalt.

“I hope Miss Gretchen doesn’t chastise us for being so late,” Angel commented darkly. “Surely, she’d understand.”

“Positive that’s not going to be an issue.”

Carey whipped face-down to the crumbling asphalt too fast to think he’d tripped on it. Something had grabbed his ankle, and he rolled over to try to kick them. With a frothy growl, the thing which looked to once be human lashed out at him with too-long fingernails. A second kick gave him enough time to steady his hands to fire at it. Heart between his ears, his eyes whipped around to recognize these things surrounded him, and if they hadn’t noticed him before the gunfire, they certainly had now.

“Terrific!” Angel beamed, switching out its pincer attachments for its laser and circular saw. “It’s a fight then!”

“…God…”

Carey glazed with dread, trembling as these mutated, misshapen ghouls shambled closer. In naked tatters, their complexion and hair had burned and melted, their black eyes sank deep in their faces, and their apparent bone structure was lost in wanderlust. When one abruptly scrambled to run and lunge at him with a guttural yowl, he screamed and unloaded the entire clip at it. He continued pulling the trigger on the empty pistol as the thing crumpled lifeless at his feet atop the first one. He pushed backwards as fast as he could to back himself into the embankment beside the road, eyes frozen open with grief.

All the while, Angel hummed eagerly while it deftly mowed down several of them.

“…Indhhh–” A third one glared at Carey, and he frantically reloaded from his slacks pocket. But, the ghoul simply stood there, breathing heavy and letting out a faint growl. It lacked a nose, and its jawline had rotted down to mere teeth, its thyroid hanging massive like a crop from a horribly elongated neck. The hairless, earless thing squinted, clearly pained. “Mhhh. Ghgh’dy.”

When the ghoul did not advance, Carey’s eyes darted to the others that had opted to attack the shiny flaming robot rather than him. Mindy. Horror seized him when he realized this thing recognized him, and did his best to aim his pistol at it, distrustful. Angel continued to contend with the dozen or so others, the violence framing this one and himself in a solipsistic, distorted sphere.

“…Jacob?” The breath to speak could scarce escape him. A drooling roar came from it, and the tears started. “Jacob, I’m sorry…”

“Khhh, llm.” Kill me. It took a step toward him. “Hhree.” Hurry? …Free?

“I don’t understand.” He shook his head at it, gaze unable to stay on any one feature too long. “What… what are you?” Suddenly, it clicked what Angel was doing and he screamed, nauseated mouth suffusing with desperate saliva. “ANGEL STOP!”

The last of the ghouls fell to the road and Angel turned in confusion to its owner.

“You missed one, Sir.”

“These… these…” He couldn’t breathe. “These are what’s left of Sanctuary!?”

“Feral ghouls are everywhere these days, I’m afraid,” the robot replied, poised to fell the ghoul between them upon command. “Allow me to get this one, Sir.”

“I, no. No. I can’t.” He glanced up at the Red Rocket filling station behind it and Angel. “I can’t. Please. Can we leave him here? At the truck stop?”

Its ocular lenses shuffled around to scrutinize the ghoul.

“I suppose. It doesn’t seem to wish harm like the others.”

He couldn’t believe Angel couldn’t understand. The more he stared at the ghoul, the more he could recognize the vestiges of Jacob’s features. He stood slowly, as not to unsettle the ghoul, and dropped the pistol hand to his side. With the other, he pointed to the filling station.

“You… you’ve been staying here? Right? Because the insects are bothering you back at the house?”

The ghoul forced through its exposed turbinates a long breath which turned into a whine.

“Khhh, llm. Kkhhh. Mhh’d.”

“Jacob, no.”

Barking closed in on the paused chaos, and a sizable ramshackle dog stopped mere yards away, lowering its head to growl. Angel and Carey both moved to aim at the unpredictable new threat, but the ghoul started toward it, and crooked down slightly to pet the German shepherd’s head. The dog softened and pulled at what was left of the ghoul’s trousers to lead it back to the filling station. The moment the dog had appeared, the ghoul lost all attention on Carey and his Mister Handy, and cared only about the dog.

“…He’s… got a friend left, at least.” Carey nearly dropped the gun in shock, but caught himself and turned on the safety before pocketing it. He looked around at the casualties littering the road, then back to the Red Rocket. “I’m not sure this is better than him dying.”

“Come now, Mister Carey. We can mull over such existential preponderances during your work break! We’re late enough as it is.”

The chemist’s fingers retraced his platysmal scar again, and he drew a difficult breath and shut his eyes.

“Let’s get going.”

The pair traveled through the decimated streets of Concord, following their routine track to and from work. A town devoid of population unsettled Carey more than the same of a small suburb. What remained of Walden Drugs did not invite them. The roof of the two story building had fallen, but the second story’s floor still shielded the first from the dreary drizzling which had set in during the confrontation.

“Go upstairs ahead of me,” Carey instructed. Once it had gone, he crouched behind the counter and rummaged the shelves, drawers, and cabinets. He emptied out the first aid tin on the wall of its Stimpak, gauze, and smelling salts, and took the box of ballpoint pens and a fistful of manila folders from the front counter’s hanging file drawer as well. In the drawer he put his hands on a pair of directories–one, of the employees, the other, of nearby drugstores and chemists. One of the locations in the latter would have to provide him supplies, and the closer, the better. Lexington Walden. He shut the directory and with a nod slapped his peeling counter with the wad of papers. Out of habit, the fifteen dollars still inexplicably in the till found its way into his pocket.

He ascended the stairs with the files under his arm, and everything else awkwardly in his trouser pockets. The light rain annoyed him only slightly less than finding that so little remained of his former workplace. The desks had rusted and rotted out, despite a scab of papers plastered to the floor by centuries of weather, and the inventory had been looted. From a metal storage box near the baseboards, he grabbed a bottle of Wonderglue and a box of .38 bullets. Then he got Angel’s attention to deposit everything in its storage compartment.

Pulling out the box of bobby pins to reuse the one he’d bent up the day before, he approached the small wall safe that had once belonged to Gretchen, the store owner. Angel idled anxiously, finding little to occupy itself.

“I wonder where Miss Gretchen and the others are.”

Carey did not respond, haunted as ever by this nightmare he’d awoken to, lost in thought as he struggled with the sophisticated lock. He couldn’t handle the idea his boss, or any of his coworkers, had suffered the same fate as his roommate and the others. Jacob’s face wouldn’t quit him. His friend had been so plain before, but he was so… beautiful now. When he caught himself in such thoughts, he shook his head of them and had to stop a moment to recollect himself. God, he needed a drink.

His boss’s safe gave him more trouble than his own, but the effort yielded him a .38 pistol with a wood-panel grip and a fine scope, as well as war bonds and a set of spare keys which no longer belonged to anything. Well, the scope seemed wonderful by comparison, anyway, to the shoddy company-issue 10mm pistol with iron sights he’d nicked off the corpse of that Vault 111 security guard. The chemist favored it, and stored the 10mm in Angel.

Descending back to the main floor, the nag graced him with a difficult and thoughtful squint: “Did I… clock out that day…?” But then, he noticed the cardstock had plastered into mush in the slots of the time card rack, and he stared vacantly for some time at the clock itself. Suppose it’s 9:47am forever. He shook the nonsense from his brain and very much just wanted to leave, and yet... He hadn’t checked the mudroom.

As he walked behind the counter again, and back under the stairwell, he stopped, stunned. The lockers to the left had remained untouched, and everyone’s coats still hung to the right--including the garment bag he’d had ready for the evening the bombs fell.

Saturday morning, Jacob had dropped Carey off at work. The Pharmacy Corps veteran had brought his uniform with him, to change into after his shift. Their neighbor, Nate Murphy, was also a much-decorated veteran of Anchorage, though he’d been at the Alaskan war front as a soldier, while the chemist had stayed on base here in Massachusetts. Nate was to give a speech at the Concord Veteran’s Hall that night, and everyone in Sanctuary Hills was going, out of a mixture of enthusiasm and moral support. Even Jahani intended to go, and Carey found it odd though never mentioned it.

But then, around 9:30, the screaming and chaos began. Carey had thought it had been yet another riot outbreak, but then Jacob’s sky blue Chryslus Coupe jumped the front curb, and he got out without turning off. The thirty-some blond hopped the counter and, beyond words, dragged Carey out of the pharmacy by the wrist. Because the chemist’d had his nose buried in his work, the repairman had heard news of the apocalypse first. Walden Drugs didn’t have a television in its waiting area.

“Angel!” Jacob demanded. “Go home. Wait for us there.”

“Mister Hawthorne--” Angel looked between the two of them, trying to follow both figuratively and literally. It read the gravity and concern in his voice. “Yes, Sir.”

Carey tried to pull away from him.

“Jacob, if this is about keeping me from going tonight--”

The blond threw him into the passenger seat and slammed the door, to get in the driver’s seat himself.

“We have to go, Carey. Now.”

“But I didn’t clock out--”

“It’s started. Those fucking pieces of shit--”

Jacob turned on the car radio, and didn’t have to tune--the news was on every station.

“--We’ve lost contact with New York and Philadelphia. Confirmed nuclear detonations across the country. A blast, followed by a bright flash of light. Take shelter, if you have it. Oh. God help us all--”

“We don’t have much time. Can’t even stop at the house first. I’m gonna park at the foot of the hill and you get a head start running to the military check-point. Okay? I’m one step behind you.”

Except, the military check-point had rejected the non-veteran in favor of the veteran. Unable to bring himself to think again so soon of his roommate’s fate, he instead recalled the frost-mangled countenances of everyone back in the vault. Nate never would get to deliver his veteran’s speech. Heart stabbing his arm, the chemist unzipped the garment bag, to find the Pharmacy Corps uniform nearly pristine. The nameplate read A. Carey. His hand clapped to his mouth, and he collapsed in the mudroom to his knees in tears.

“Of all the things to have survived in tact--”

He laid in the floor for some time, cradling the garment bag, and he finally let himself cry out the trauma after days spent in total shock. Angel came to the doorway once it heard him.

“Sir, are you... are you injured?”

“O-- only spiritually.”

With a series of hard snorts and hacks, and a face a blur of swelling, he proceeded to try to focus on picking open all the lockers to retrieve valuables. In addition to smoking paraphernalia, timepieces, and a few hats including a visor, he also obtained several wallets; all of these, he poured into Angel, with the sacked uniform folded neatly atop the entire cache. The finesse of such a task grounded him enough to move on, ears no longer ringing by the time they left the pharmacy.

As the two exited to the street, they noticed nearing gunfire and panicked to outpace it. Slowing a bit a few blocks later, a winded Carey came across a body on the sidewalk, and he knelt down to remove the canvas hood. Deranged from the day, he put it on and aligned the small eye-holes, and pushed onward in the hopes nothing else would recognize him from that point onward.

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